00 Murmurs Of Yesterday
by JonGraeme
Summary: For Megabyte painful memories are revived by a series of child murders, and after fifteen years on the run he finds himself captured by Colonel Masters.


**Tied Up**

* * *

A jumble of semi-rational thoughts surfaced momentarily above his confusion. He managed to seize hold of one and fixate on it. That fractured act of thinking helped pull him further from the intellectual oblivion that had consumed him. The conjecture slowly crystalized and became an awareness of regaining consciousness; the anesthetic had to be wearing off.

He felt... it was hard to judge. Alive. Yes, that had to be a positive sign. In one piece, another positive. His nose itched, he went to scratch it and he noticed that his wrists were strapped tightly to the bed; not so positive. No, things never were entirely positive were they? His head was still groggy and there seemed no easy way to get out of the bindings. He relaxed and lay back, delighted by the hopelessness of his predicament in the way only a true pessimist could understand.

This time no one would be coming for him. No magical knight on a white horse to ride in and rescue the fair maiden. Not that he was a maiden, and he would defy anyone to screw up working that one out. He did have a fair complexion though, and a copper colored top. Actually, other parts were copper colored as well, as he would jokingly have pointed out had there been anyone there to have the conversation with. He didn't get much conversation now. It seemed like he had been alone and hiding for a very long time.

Just obviously not hiding well enough.

As seconds ticked by his grasp on consciousness strengthened, and he started to get bored of staring at the featureless ceiling. So, what else was there to get bored looking at? He was on a stretcher trolley, it wasn't a bed, and he was pretty securely strapped to it. Four walls and a ceiling. And probably a floor. A floor would be logical, even though he couldn't see it.

He tried to see beyond the walls, but there was a dull emptiness in the back of his mind that told him he wouldn't have much luck.

He heard a noise and instinctively made as if to depart abruptly, before working out that he wasn't in much of a position to do that either.

The sound of a key turning, a door opening. From where he was strapped down he couldn't see the door, but at least he knew where it was... and that it was kept locked. Then footsteps across the room. Then a face looking down at him.

"Awake are you." She paused, then; "I'm not afraid. The restraints are secure, I tied them myself. And they have someone, a police professional hit-man or something outside the room. I haven't seen it, but I am pretty sure he has a gun. I think he'd use it too, if you struggled, or broke free or anything. Whatever you've done, you scare the freak out of them."

"I know I scare the freak out of them. But it isn't anything I've done."

"Yeah, well. They say otherwise."

"And they have badges and I'm tied up, so they must be the ones telling the truth."

She stopped preparing the syringe and looked at him for a moment. His mind was still blunt, but she was close, and he could sense a fragment of doubt there.

"Tied up, so my point of view clearly has no value." He pressed.

"Adolf Hitler had a point of view. How many million people died?"

"I'm not here for committing an act of genocide. Although," he hesitated, "From Masters' point of view, maybe I am."

"Don't tell me - you're here because you got caught."

"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out. It explains a few things. Like being tied up. For which, to clarify my sanity, I don't thank you." He tried to lighten up, and failed. "So, what's it to be? Torture, vivisection? My bet is on vivisection, not that I'll be totally upset if I'm wrong on that one." He looked at the syringe, now prepared and hovering near to his arm. "Truth serum? Look, if it is, do me a favor. Before they get here to interrogate me, ask me if I'm a good guy or a bad guy. Ask if I did whatever it is they're accusing me of. One day I'll vanish and you won't see me again, and maybe then you'll feel bad about not taking the time to get to know me, but by then it will be too late."

"For a moment I was starting to believe you, now I'm thinking definitely paranoid."

He let his head drop back on the pillow as she injected him in the arm.

"And for your information, this is an antibiotic. You have a nasty cut on your leg where you fell. Good try though."

"Okay, I'm paranoid. I get like that when I'm tied up and under armed guard. It could have something to do with I'm scared. I don't know what they want, and I have an overactive imagination, and I watched too many horror movies when I was a kid. And I'm sorry if you feel like I'm just messing with your head, and I'm sorry your ex-boyfriend was such a shit, and I'm sorry I remind you of him, but that doesn't make it okay to take it out on me."

She stopped; she had been on her way out, practically at the door. Her head tilted but didn't turn. He had been babbling faster and faster to dig himself out of the hole he had talked his way into. But he had gone way too far.

"How the hell did you know I was thinking that?" She murmured. She didn't wait for an answer, but left. He heard the door lock behind her.

Antibiotic. His worst nightmare. That probably meant vivisection.

* * *

She made it to the water cooler down the corridor and stopped to get a drink. One of the police officers was sat opposite reading a newspaper. She couldn't see if he was really armed, she had just made that up. Made it up to give the prisoner one less reason to try anything. He hadn't tried anything, so maybe it had helped. But the guy had still spooked her out more than a little, that comment about her ex-boyfriend though, like he could see right through her.

So, in her mind she saw a criminal, a prisoner in chains, and she did see Danny, the bastard, in a wish fulfillment kind of way. And it wasn't fair. Not all men were bastards, just most. And this prisoner seemed like a really nice guy. Maybe that was just as damning; there was a point she had thought Danny was a nice guy. So maybe she meets another nice guy and rejects him because he seems so similarly nice that he too must be hiding something. This guy was definitely hiding something though, something to make him a candidate for being locked up and kept under heavy police guard, unarmed or not.

But this wasn't supposed to be about analyzing the mess that was her love life. This was a morbid interest in one of the stranger tasks her job in the hospital had called upon her to do. But she was too curious to let it pass.

"Heavy on the security for one guy, is he really that dangerous? I will probably regret asking this, but what exactly did he do?" She figured she would try and make the question sound innocent, make it sound light. "I mean, he doesn't look the dangerous type. It was odd, he seemed more afraid of me than I was of him."

"Just assisting us with our enquiries."

"Tied up?"

"He's afraid. So afraid that last night he tried to get away by smashing through a third floor window and trying to sneak off along the ledge. Doesn't think we can protect him. And that convinced them he really does have information that can help, if they can get it out of him."

"Interrogation? Must be something pretty big."

"I can't make any comment on what investigation he's being held in connection with. Sorry." He folded the newspaper and handed it to her. Showing her the headline, demonstrating the reliable quality of someone who considered discretion overrated, someone who followed the letter of the law if not the spirit.

She didn't exactly need to read the story. Tough not to be aware of the state of panic had been growing across the country over the last five months. Reading reports, week in and week out of of teenage kids being abducted, none of them seen again. No bodies, no trail to follow, nothing, as if they had vanished into thin air. And the police looking fairly incompetent in their efforts to make any progress in the investigation. Had that finally changed?

But why the hell would someone who knew something not help them? Even if the guy was afraid, if he kept his mouth shut and more kids died, didn't that make him just as bad as the killer? How could she have any sympathy for a guy like that?

* * *

"Feeding time." She sounded cold.

He looked up. It had only been an hour or so, but tied up that can seem an eternity. There were only so many escape plans he could run through, knowing only that he was tied up in a room with a locked door. Sedation might have been less boring.

"If I untie one hand..."

"I'll use it to untie the other, then my ankles, I'll be at the door within seconds."

"And then?"

"I haven't worked that part out yet." He had hoped as the drugs wore off and his clarity of mind improved that he would have been better able to guess what she was thinking. That wasn't happening. There were flashes. Confusion mostly. Something was still stopping him from thinking straight. And it wasn't her, even if she was really attractive, and distracting.

She looked back at him blankly. The disconnect was intense. He was jokey, damn it, he was cute. He was a monster, he was evil, he wasn't human, and he had to be the most accomplished sociopath in the history of men. He seemed like a nice guy. He was the ultimate proof that she had to be the worst judge of character in the world. Which would kind of explain some of the more stupid choices in her love life. Or was this all some monumental screw up and the guy didn't know anything.

"You want to eat while you work it out?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Okay." He would have shrugged had it been possible. She was right.

She untied the hand, propped him up to half sitting, and placed the tray across his lap.

"They make you eat this stuff too?" He asked, conversationally.

"We have to pay for the privilege."

She pulled up a chair to sit and watch him eat. And talk. She knew it was wrong, getting the better of her professional detachment, and sure, just the idea of what the guy might know filled her with revulsion, and yes, the guy was clearly afraid of something, and she should probably be very afraid too. Okay, it was stupid to say anything...

"So, how about, what's your name?" She asked.

"That wouldn't help." His name rarely helped. His parents had probably thought they were being cute. When he was three years old it might have been cute. First time he ever nearly made out with a girl she had asked him his name just as things were getting heavy, almost intimate. She'd burst out laughing. Didn't much give a guy confidence. Could account a lot for his general pessimism in later life about the nature of humanity. And right now it wasn't going to help him escape.

"So how did you get messed up in all this, what do you know?" The nurse cut to what she really wanted to ask.

"About what?"

"No games."

"I'm messed up in so much stuff. Wrong stuff. Bad stuff. Stuff you don't want to know about. But not what they might think."

"So you don't know anything?"

He knew if he gave in to the temptation to say yes at this point that she wouldn't believe him, probably would stop listening to him altogether. People always did that, never liked it when the truth contradicted what they had already made their minds up the answer should be. "I'm not saying that." He paused. He couldn't work out where this was going and it didn't help that he had no precise clue what pretense they had for keeping him there. "I know, I know so many things. Maybe I do know things they want to find out."

She was more confused than ever. It all sounded so conveniently believable. "So, you plan on telling them?"

"They didn't ask yet."

"So you will?"

"I don't know what they're going to ask yet."

"How can you, kids are disappearing and if you know something how can you make a game out of helping? Doesn't that make you just as bad?" She snapped back, then instantly regretted her outburst.

"Yeah, I read about it. Kids are disappearing again. Doesn't mean I know anything about it this time." That was it, now it started to make some sense to him. There had to be a connection between the current disappearances and what had happened all those years ago, that was what he'd set out to try and establish. Pity it had taken him getting caught to find out.

"Again? What do you mean again?"

"Kids just disappearing into thin air. It's happened before. Now it's happening again. Is there a link? I don't know for sure. But somebody obviously thinks so, or I wouldn't be here. So I guess, yeah, I do know stuff. Is that ice cream for dessert?"

"Are they dead?"

"Can't go wrong with ice cream."

"Are they dead?" She wasn't going to be deterred by him avoiding the subject.

Was she one of them, trying to pry answers from him? No, he couldn't see much, but he could see enough to know that. "I don't know. It was all so confused towards the end. So when I'm lonely, I can convince myself they're still alive. Still out there, hiding, like me. It works, mostly. Stops me getting too depressed, stops me giving up. It used to be easy, but as the years go by, the delusions fade, and reality is all I have left."

"You were one of the victims? Somehow you escaped, you've been hiding all these years. And you think these new abductions, you think it's the same guy, and you think now you're tied up here, now you can't run any more, you think that means he gets his chance to finish the job. You don't trust anyone." She had been leaning further and further forward now she sat back.

"I know it. Time hasn't changed why they did it. As long as I could hide I was safe. Now, now I figure I'm about screwed. Decent food by the way, thanks. You want to tie me up again now?"

"I have to."

"I know, just following orders. I'm really fortunate to have you here to protect me from myself. You have to keep me here, and I still have to do everything I can to get out. That's how it goes. "

"What are you afraid of?"

"Dying, mostly."

"Surely the police here can protect you?"

"Right, just like they've been so effective at making any progress at all on the case so far."

"They're trying."

"Are they?"

"The paranoia returning?"

"It never went away."

Silently she cleared away the tray and strapped his arm back to the bed post. As she did that he could see momentarily she was troubled by her conscience. Perhaps it was deliberate, perhaps subliminal, but the strap wasn't as tight as it had been earlier.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you're just doing your job." He called after her as she departed. "But I'm not the bad guy here. And, I know my timing is lousy, but, I kind of wondered what time you get off duty. I wondered if you might want to do pizza, a movie maybe."

"So sure you'll escape?"

"No, but I have to try. Trying is better than dying. Huh, nice rhyme to that. I have to say that more often."

"I go off duty right now. So, I think you're too late."

* * *

"And you are?" The nurse took an immediate dislike to the Whitehall official who seemed to be walking in and treating the hospital like it was under his military command.

"Colonel Masters. Now, how is my prisoner?"

"Prisoner?"

"You think I order this, level of security for fun?"

"He's afraid."

"Physically?"

"Fit."

"Good. That is all I need to know. You are dismissed."

She felt slightly more than dismissed. The guy was rude, arrogant, and why the hell was a Colonel giving orders to police? She turned to depart, but headed away slowly. Trying to catch what she could of the rest of what he the Colonel was saying.

Masters turned to address another police officer as he arrived "Perimeter active?"

"Yes sir."

"Range?"

"About two meters from the outer wall. We had the power higher, but it started screwing with medical equipment. Guards posted on all exits, and on all routes down from here. The building is secure."

"I lack your faith. But it's your job you're putting on the line."

"Sir?"

"Get out"

"Yes sir."‚Ä®

* * *

"O that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone! I really thought you were all dead. So by some freak chance did you alone survive against the odds, or did anyone else survive?"

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

"Did anyone else survive?"

"What, tell you so you can finish the job? You're wasting your time. I won't answer, and you can't make me. We played this game before remember?"

"Yes, moral blackmail never worked with you, did it, and truth drugs don't work on the air-headed, we tried that before as well. But I would remind you that I have no desire to kill you. I consider that a waste of a valuable resource. It is unfortunate you remain so stubborn because we could have achieved so much if we could have found a way to work together."

"You still don't get it do you?"

"Nor, apparently, do you."

"So where does that leave us?"

"You won't work for me, fine. That's your choice. I respect that. But I can't allow you to work for the enemy. And have no illusions, if you fall into enemy hands, they won't give you a choice, they don't have concepts like freedom of choice, they'll force you. And I can't take that risk. You're too dangerous, far too dangerous to be allowed to fall into their hands."

"Meaning you kill me, like you killed the others?"

"The objective wasn't to kill anyone. Just to make permanently sure that you couldn't become a weapon against us. The process was meant to make you safe."

"It made us dead."

"Unforeseen side effect. Unfortunate."

"Unfortunate? You..." He tried to launch himself forward towards Masters. He succeeded only in tipping the chair over sideways, and fell to the floor still chained to it.

"Temper, temper."

"So is that what you're doing. Trying to work out the kinks in the process? Six more victims to experiment on. Six more cases of unfortunate side effects?"

"Oh that? No, not me, not this time. No, I have no idea what that is all about. Although, I intend to find out. You survived, so there must be some kind of immunity factor. It's possible any of your lot born since then would have immunity, and it has been fifteen years, just long enough that we might expect to see this new generation of your lot starting to break out about now. Who knows, in this post-ideologically divisive society, they might even have more sense and reason than you did. I'll certainly give them a fair chance to consider their options before I resort to any extreme measures."

"Always comes back to that with you, doesn't it."

"Freedom and democracy have to be defended. Whether that is against fascism, or communism, or terrorism, or whatever comes beyond that, there will always be a threat. That is the nature of humanity, the nature of the species."

"The nature of your species. Not mine."

"And my job is to fight for what this country believes in. To fight for freedom, democracy, to fight for peace. I don't want a war. No one wants a war. But we have a war, whether we like it or not. And I do not intend to lose that war. So if you won't fight on our side, I'll make damn sure you don't fight for the enemy. "

"By killing innocent children."

"Don't try telling me there's anything innocent about your lot. But you know what, yes. If killing a handful of innocent children protects the freedom of the majority, yes, I would do that. Collateral damage, war is hell."

"You're sick."

"Pragmatic."

"So you plan to kill me or experiment on me?"

"Kill you probably. But don't worry, I'll make it humane."

* * *

**Making An Exit**

* * *

He heard a lock turn. Different lock. That was unexpected. Barely a minute had passed, even in his heightened state of boredom it hadn't seemed long. Near silent footsteps, and a face looming over him, her finger held to her lips in a shushing gesture. Fair maiden rescues knight in shining... bed sheet, that would be a turnaround. He allowed her to untie him and help him off the bed. He was a little unsteady on his feet after so long horizontal. He had no clothes, and retained the bed sheet wrapped awkwardly around him. He accepted her help as she half carried him through to the other room.

* * *

"They'll figure I'm gone pretty quick."

"And you still have to get out of the building, which won't be easy. They have guards posted on all the ways down from here, and every exit. They were confident you couldn't get two meters from the building, I think they bet their careers on it."

"Two meters is all?" An idea occurred to him. "How high is this place?"

"This block goes up six floors, we are on two."

"And they have the way down guarded. But I only need two meters So we go up."

"Up, are you nuts, no way out up."

"It's okay, I have a cunning plan. Anyway, why are you helping, what finally convinced you I wasn't insane?"

"I think you're paranoid, not insane. And because in my world you don't keep an innocent man prisoner."

"Innocent, bit of a leap of faith there? Not that I'm complaining you understand."

"I checked your story. Fifteen years ago. Identical circumstances. Then I sneaked in to the room next door and overheard Masters telling you he was going to kill you. That part was a bit of a giveaway."

"Right."

"He really does intend to have you killed, doesn't he."

"Yep. Kind of puts my paranoia in perspective, doesn't it!"

"We need to move, before I come to my senses and worry what they'll do to me for helping you."

"Nothing, I'd like to make you feel special, important, but to them you're nothing. When this goes down, you get to walk away. They won't even notice you were there."

"Thanks. That's the most offensive reassurance anyone has ever given me."

"So. You, maybe, still up for a pizza and a movie later?"

"I'll think about it."

"Cool. First though, I could do with something to wear. I don't think the bed sheet makes the fashion statement I'm looking for right now."

"There's nothing, not here anyway. Now if we can get to my car..."

"I'm not going to your car. Okay, bed sheet will have to do. I was figuring on going swimming later anyway. No sense over dressing."

"And you want me to believe you aren't crazy?"

"The owls are not what they seem. I'm kind of sane. Stairs, they're likely guarded at the bottom, but going up should be no problem."

They silently peered round the door and made a dash for the stairs. She waited until reaching the floor above to resume talking.

"So, now I've thrown my career away for you, let me get this straight, Masters was the killer last time?"

"Yes."

"Not this time?"

"So he says, I was so sure it was him, but, I don't think he's lying. No."

"He's afraid of you, insanely afraid?"

"Yes. So afraid that killing six people to get to me wouldn't have been a surprise."

"You're taking the piss? Please tell me you're taking the piss. Look, how can a goofball like you scare the living shit out of an apeman like that?"

"I am Envy. I cannot read and therefore wish all books were burned."

"Deep!"

"Yeah, I'm more fun sharing pizza or watching corny old movies than doing philosophical exposition on a staircase wearing a makeshift toga, and knowing my butt is quite visible through this thin sheet."

"Persistent about that dinner date aren't you?"

"Say, well, say yes, and I'll shut up about it."

"Yes."

"Whoa. A girl actually said yes. No way. Can you sign a statement, confess that you agreed of your own free will. I don't think anyone would believe me otherwise."

She smiled. "Now, you say that, and you sound sane and human. But we're still going up, and that isn't sane. You have to see my confusion."

"You really want to know. Okay, here it is. I'm not human."

"Oh, you're an alien, and he's like from some secret alien hunting government department. If you believe that you're as deluded as he is."

"I didn't say I was alien. Just not human."

"Okay. Only reason I am still listening is because they want to kill you, and you might be a bit fruitcake, but you're cute fruitcake."

"So, you're picking sides based on I'm more cute than he is. Alright. I'm okay with that. Seriously, did you just call me cute?"

"Don't get cocky. It messes with the cuteness. Okay, this is the door. Out to the roof. Fire escape down, but that will be guarded at the bottom. The alarm will sound when the door opens. You still didn't tell me your plan yet."

"And I give Masters about three minutes to work out my plan and get up here. So, I open the door, and I'll answer questions until Masters arrives, then I go."

He didn't wait any longer, the alarm sounded and they stepped through onto the roof. It was cold, the thin sheet was no barrier against the wind. The sky was grey, dark, oppressive. Good wind, helpful wind. He would be warm soon. Or dead. Hopefully warm. He tried to keep his mind away from the admission that his plan was half-baked at best.

"So, pizza. When?" He had to get his mind on something more positive.

"Okay, say eight."

"Cool eight. Er, what time zone is this?"

"British Summer Time. You know, London. Earth."

"Oh, yeah, should have guessed from the dark clouds, the cold wind and persistent drizzle. I'm in England. Tell you what. I'll meet you in Leicester Square. Plenty people around. Even if Masters has you followed he won't try anything there. Deal?"

"Deal. How will I spot you?"

He looked down at the barely holding together sheet. "Right, could be tough to recognize me with my clothes on. Tell you what, I'll find you."

"I don't even know your name."

"Hopefully you never will." He muttered. "So do you think they've worked out I've gone yet? I'd so get a kick out of seeing his face right now."

He had climbed over to the top of the fire escape. The power of the perimeter damping field was weakened this high up. He might not even need the whole two meters

In the distance he could sense, it was infuriation. Masters, it had to be.

"Time for me to leave. I need to, well, go find some clothes for our date. Masters is here. Don't worry yourself. He won't hurt you, probably won't even notice you."

"I still don't get your plan."

"Two meters, I jump. I can easily get two meters out long before I hit the bottom. Well, I think I can. If I push off it should be easy. I'm sort of confident. If I'm not trying I'm dying. Which is cool, that I got to say that rhyming thing again."

"Jump, okay, not sane, you are freaking me out here."

"I might not die. If Masters gets me I will die. The odds favor jumping right now, in a very scary kind of way. "

"From that height, survival is not humanly possible."

"You don't believe me, okay. That's okay. I'd be more worried if you did believe something this crazy."

"It'll never work." Masters had arrived.

"So what's your problem? You want me dead. You're just afraid it will work." He kept his eyes fixed on Masters, but shouted back behind him to the nurse only a fews steps away. "You want to know what he's really afraid of... Did you know the species Homo sapiens is dying out? Masters does."

He was totally focussed on Masters and failed to notice the nurse as she took a step closer and grabbed him, putting her arms loosely around him. Less hugging, more making it awkward for him to proceed with jumping. "No one could survive that fall. You are nuts. Sorry, but I am a nurse, you are my patient, I can't let you do this."

Good intentions, crap timing. Masters was inching closer. He could sense someone below coming up the escape, another to the left closing from behind. Time and options running out. The sheet was loose, he tugged it and it came away, leaving his gallant protector hugging a white billowing emptiness. He stepped back quickly, very self-conscious, very naked. He jumped onto the ledge and inched his toes over. Oh boy, this had better work.

He sensed anguish, pain. He looked back and caught the nurses eye. "We have a date, I'll be there. This might look crazy, but I am very, very sane. I am also not human. I'm the future. Humanity the next generation. I'm tomorrow."

He fell forward in a dive and pushed off from the wall. Praying.

* * *

The nurse ran to the edge and looked down in morbid horror. Masters strode heavily across and joined her. There was nothing to see. No one falling, no body, no mess on the ground below. Nothing.

Masters turned to the police officer on the fire escape; "Tell your boss his resignation will be on my desk tomorrow morning."

Then he faced down the nurse as if to say something, but just frowned dismissively and walked away.

She glanced over the edge just to reassure her disbelief. Still no body, still no mess. Part of her was in shock, part in confusion. Part was content. She would have to re-evaluate how she defined sanity. He'd escaped somehow, not everything was what it seemed. Somehow the world had just become a very much more interesting place. Despite herself she smiled.

Although now was she going to have to break it to him that she didn't like pizza.

* * *

He fell through the air, nervous, bracing himself for impact. He misjudged; he hit the surface of the water just beyond where he would have hit the road below. He kind of freaked for a moment. But the warm water was refreshing, and the sunlight reflecting off the surface so entrancing as he headed back up. His head broke the surface and he gasped momentarily for air before turning and starting to swim towards the beach silhouetted by the sunset in the distance.

What an unbelievable day... He actually had a date.


End file.
